Between the Streets
by MissScorp
Summary: Oneshot collection. People only see the extreme things that happen on the streets of Gotham. They don't know about the things that happen between them. Pranks, arrests, adventures in babysitting, everyday there is something going on Between the Streets of Gotham.
1. Pranks

"Jason," Tim Drake said with a sigh, "this plan of yours is either going to end up getting us killed or seriously maimed."

"But you're still in, aren't you?" Dick asked him in a whisper. "We really can't pull this off without you."

"Just because I said the plan was either going to get us killed or maimed doesn't mean I'm not in," Tim replied with a roll of his eyes. "I just have serious reservations about it."

Jason tossed a smirk at him from over his left shoulder before continuing up the stairs.

"Relax, Timbo, I promise everything will turn out just fine."

That didn't comfort Tim in the least. Not when Jason's plans tended to always go massively awry. And not when they were discussing playing a prank on the hell-spawn, Damian Wayne.

"You realize we're essentially baiting the little gremlin here," he pointed out as Jason turned at the top of the stairs and started walking down the hall. "The one who uses a katana like some people do chopsticks?"

"I know who we're pranking."

"Let me repeat... your plan is to prank the demon child that has cut our grapnel lines more than once because he was annoyed with us."

Jason snorted a laugh. "Yeah, and?"

"And you know he is not going to take us pranking him without vowing bloody, unholy retribution for it."

"Tell me you aren't looking forward to getting some payback after what the little demon spawn did to you on patrol the other night."

Tim swallowed a groan. He had forgotten about the traffic and security cameras all around the Gotham Bank. _Should be grateful that footage of my grapnel line snapping and me plummeting towards the ground didn't air on every news channel_ , he thought bitterly as they entered Damian's bedroom.

"Well, yes, I..." he began but Jason cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"No buts about it, Timbo." He opened a black bag and started to remove tools and other items that caused Tim's gut to clench. "Either you want to get a little payback or you don't."

"You know I do." Tim heaved a sigh. "It's just..."

"No justs about it," Jason said as he tossed Dick a bottle of superglue. "The spawn of the Demon deserves a taste of his own medicine."

"Let's just hope that he doesn't give us a katana between the ribs for it."

"Could always get Cass to best him in one-on-one combat again," Dick pointed out. "He behaved for about a month the last time."

"No," Tim corrected as he took a hammer and some nails from Jason. "He made my life miserable that month."

"Even more reason to teach him a lesson about not cutting grapnel lines or tampering with equipment." Jason rubbed his hands together. "Now, let's get started. Want to have this done before he and the old man get back from patrol."

The three set to work then, tying the little demon's sheets to the bed frame, gluing his iPod and tv remote to the nightstand, and nailing his shoes on the ceiling. It wasn't the same as cutting his grapnel like, Tim decided, but it certainly felt good, he had to admit.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! I hope this finds you well!

This piece is not written during any one comic, scene or era. It's just a piece I wrote based on a prompt I found on Pinterest about a plan getting people killed. I thought a little prank on Damian Wayne was the perfect response ;)

If you find a mistake, please, feel free to let me know. I am only human.


	2. Pranking the Bat

"What I want to know," Raya said as she folded her arms across her chest, "is _how_ you not only managed to get the Batmobile on the roof of my apartment building but _why_ you decided to put it here."

Jason Todd folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the black automobile in question. Sure, playing a prank on Batman was just a tad bit insane, but they needed a bit of crazy in their lives that wasn't caused by a clown, a guy who wears question marks or a freak that looked like a penguin.

"Well, Jason?" Impatience snapped in her voice. "Are you going to tell me how you got the Batmobile on my roof and why or not?"

"Well, now, I can't reveal all of my tricks, now, can I?" A smirk screwed up one side of his mouth as she grumbled beneath her breath. "Come on, what'll I talk about at all those Wayne family functions I'm expected to attend?"

"You mean all the functions you _don't_ attend because there's always some reason or another for _why_ you can't?"

 _Zing, point to her_ , Jason thought as he stared into her burning eyes. _Should have known she'd have something ready to counter that particular argument_.

Not that anything he said wouldn't have been met with some other equally cool statement. One area she wasn't lacking in was brains. Nobody could accuse her of being an idiot. Anybody who treated her like she was stupid found out quickly how wrong their assumptions were.

"I didn't attend the last function for a very specific reason."

"And that specific reason is?"

 _There's_ _the other skill she possesses an abundance of_ , he thought, grimacing. Not that he shouldn't have expected it. Raya learned the art of interrogation from two of the greatest: Batman and Commissioner Gordon.

There was only one way for him to win with her: by reminding her about why he hadn't attended the last Wayne function she all but ordered him to attend.

"Kit, I didn't attend the last function because I had a concussion, broken ribs and a busted up leg."

"That you got by getting into a prank war with Damian."

 _Zing, second point goes to her_. However...

"Ah, but I won said prank war and that's all that matters."

"After you got tossed off the Pioneer Bridge," Nightwing not-so-helpfully pointed out. "Handcuffed and beat to all hell."

"You don't need to tell her about how badly the little demon kicked my ass, Wing."

"Like she doesn't already know?"

" _She's_ already had a long discussion with the little demon about physically attacking all of you," Raya said with a tiny sniff. "Now, can we get back to discussing how you got the Batmobile on the roof of my building? And," she added as Jason traded a look with Wing, "why it's here?"

"Like I said... can't tell you all my secrets, now can I?"

"You conned Superboy into helping you with this, didn't you?"

"Why do you think I got Superboy to hoist the Batmobile on the roof of your building?"

"Maybe because he and Red are rather conspicuous in their absences here."

"Aren't you acting just a tad bit paranoid here, Kit?"

"Considering who we were all trained by?" Wing's lips spread into one of his trademark grins. "Paranoid is not that much of a stretch here." Kit elbowed him in the side. None-too-gently from the looks of it. "Hey now..." he complained, rubbing the afflicted area. "Don't elbow me in the side. My ribs are still tender from the other night."

"You shouldn't have helped him and Red prank Robin then," she retorted primly. "Wouldn't have gotten that shot to the ribs had you convinced them not to go after the little demon."

"Well, it seemed like a good idea when Hood suggested it."

"And when he suggested pranking Batman by putting the Batmobile on my roof?" She tapped her foot with mild irritation. "Did that seem like a good idea, too?"

"Well..." Wing hedged. "It did when Red mentioned it to me."

"Again, who is conspicuous by his absence."

"Lighten up, Kit," Jason said. "Red was called away on Titan business."

"Seems rather convenient that he got called away right after the Batmobile mysteriously got placed on top of my building."

"Well." Wing sent her a sheepish grin. "Might be I sent him and Kon on a mission..."

"Mhm." She tapped a foot. "After you three bird brains got Superboy to put the Batmobile on the roof of my building."

Wing opened his mouth to reply, but a dark figure swooped out of the shadows to land on the roof, interrupting him. The thunderous expression on his face let all three know he wasn't amused.

"Oh, I know that look," Raya muttered as she looked at Batman. "That's the Batdaddy is mad and one of you is gonna get it look."

"Like how you said one of _us_ is gonna get it, Kit," Jason grumbled as he stared at the dark figure. "Way to show solidarity."

"Jas," she said as she turned to head back towards the access door. "If you're going to prank the Dark Knight? Then you can take the punishment for it all by yourself."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

This was written based on a dialogue prompt about someone not revealing all their secrets.


	3. Greatest Prankster

The problem with pranks, Timothy Drake would learn, was that they led to more pranks. How he even got in so deep was beyond him. Jason promised it'd just be _one_ prank on the Robin from Hell.

A way of teaching the demon brat not to mess with the original Robins.

Sure, giving the little demon a taste of his own medicine by gluing his iPod, tv remote and cell phone to the nightstand seemed fair justice for all the times Damian sabotaged his grapnel line, bike or weapons.

And sure, nailing every pair of shoes the Ghul-Wayne spawn owned to the ceiling felt good...

That prank, however, led to them — and by _them_ , he meant _Jason_ — deciding to play a prank on _Bruce_. 

Why he thought having Kon put the Batmobile on top of an apartment building was a good idea, he didn't know. He got so caught up in the idea he didn't foresee the consequences that'd come from it.

Arthur Conan Doyle, he discovered, was right when he wrote, "It is easy to be wise after the fact."

If only he'd recalled that line he'd have known pranking Bruce would be a big mistake.

Why?

Because the venerable Dark Knight did not play pranks.

No, he was far more devious than that. Something the three of them should have known given the years they spent as his protégés. He didn't realize until after that the series of things that occurred after the Batmobile incident were all related.

And perpetuated by one person. He should have though. Who else would put soy sauce instead of creamer in his coffee, salt in the milk he used for his cereal, and give him a bottle of syrup laced with sriracha juice?

And who else could put dish soap in his toothpaste, wood glue in his shampoo, and vinegar in his mouthwash?

He really should have suspected once things got a lot more personal.

Who else could put so much starch in his jeans that they could stand up on their own, use red food dye to turn everything white a ghastly shade of pink, and make his armor smell like something out of a perfumery?

Tim initially believed Jason and Dick behind the pranks. Would totally be like his elder brothers to prank him in such ridiculously childish ways.

Then he found out they were having the same pranks played upon them.

That was when Tim discovered how truly diabolical Bruce Wayne was.

Because he didn't need to play silly pranks, himself.

Not when he had Alfred Pennyworth to play them for him.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	4. Arrested Development

"I can't believe you actually arrested him."

His chuckles drowned out her sigh. That Dick found such enjoyment in the situation only added to the annoyance she felt about it.

"It's not _that_ funny, Grayson."

He flashed her a lopsided grin. "That's what _you_ think."

Raya shrugged off her jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair.

"It's not like I had much choice about what to do."

"You arrested him outta spite," he teased. "Admit it."

She decided to ignore him as she stripped off her work shirt and tossed it atop the jacket. It had been a long night. One made even longer by the situation at the Gotham Arts Exhibit.

A glance at the clock on the wall read ten minutes past four. All she wanted was a cup of peppermint tea, a hot shower, and he bed. However, her best friend seemed keen on denying her all three until he got every little detail out of her. Raya sat on the bench in front of her bed to pull off her boots before glancing over at him.

Dick reclined comfortably against her pillows, comfy in a pair of old gray sweats and mismatched socks. His chest was left bare, allowing her to see the mottling of bruises creeping black over his dusky skin.

A fresh bandage covered the wound he sustained while helping with ousting Two-Face from Gotham Bank a few days before. _Bruce never told us crime fighting would be easy_ , she thought as she tossed her boots beside the chair. _Or that it wouldn't come with concussions, bullet holes, broken bones, and a dependency on caffeine_.

"I had probable cause for arresting him."

"Yes, you did," Dick agreed as he folded his arms and placed them behind his head. "But it was also mostly out of spite." He nudged her with his foot and flashed her one of his infectious grins. "Admit it."

"He broke the law." Raya grabbed her pajama bottoms — the ones with the characters from LEGO Batman — and headed for the bathroom. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Let him go?"

She harrumphed at that.

"I couldn't let him go." She shot him a dirty look when he snorted. "There were over two dozen officers, including my uncle who saw _Bruce_ _Wayne_ assault Sid Maroni."

"It was spite, Rae."

Raya was tempted to slug _him_ out of spite. That his eye was still black and blue from the last person who hit him kept her from making good on her desire.

"It was not."

"Was so."

"Assault is assault, Grayson."

"And you can deny it all you want but you still arrested Bruce out of spite."

Raya wanted to keep protesting, to deny what he said as true, but she found she couldn't. There was a small part of her that had arrested Bruce out of spite.

"Fine, okay," she said. "So maybe a _little_ of it was out of spite. You happy?"

"See?" Dick's lips kicked up at the corners. "Was that so hard to admit?"

"Just because there was some spite on my part doesn't take away from the fact that he needed one of us to step in and remind him that he's not above the law." She leaned against her bathroom door. " _Batman_ can go around and punch the bad guys in public... _Bruce Wayne_ cannot."

"Fair enough." He sat up, grimacing as he did so. "How did Bruce take you arresting him?"

"Well, let's put it this way..." She made a face. "It wasn't happily or willingly."

"Meaning you had to tranquillize him before you could cuff him."

Her lips kicked up at the corners. "Hey, I _was_ in attendance the day he taught us to fight smarter and not harder."

"You totally left him for your uncle to take to the station and process, didn't you?"

"Maybe..." Dick's snickers grated on her already too taut nerves. She glared at him. "Yanno, you could have come and helped."

"Alfred would have had a fit if I left the Manor."

She rolled her eyes. "I think he'd have allowed it given the circumstances."

"You could have had him arrest Bruce."

"He said I was a big girl and could deal with Bruce myself."

Dick broke out laughing at that. Raya harrumphed and turned to stomp into her bathroom. "Laugh it up, Grayson."

"So," Dick said once he was over his giggles. "You really have no idea how annoyed he is?"

"Oh, I have an idea about how _annoyed_ he is."

"How much?"

She exited the bathroom after changing into her pajamas and tossed the rest of her work clothes on top of the others in the chair.

"Let's just say that once Alfred bails him out of jail and gets him back to the Manor we'll know how _grounded_ I am."

A smirk screwed up one corner of his mouth.

"I'd plan on a month of extra Fenix patrols if I was you."

"Try three months," they heard from the other side of the bedroom door. "For you _and_ her."

"That's totally not fair!" Dick yelped. "I wasn't the one who arrested you!"

"Six months," came Bruce's throaty reply. "Because _you_ didn't stop her."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

Just a short note saying yes, this piece was formally posted by itself.


	5. Thoughts

"So," Nightwing said an hour into their patrol shift. "I had a thought."

Fenix stifled a groan. His 'I had a thought' moments always tended to end in one or the both of them needing to explain to Batman why things didn't go as planned.

 _And me always getting extra patrol shifts and long lectures about following plans as specified._

Well, she wasn't getting in trouble this time. Not when she was working off the last punishment she accrued because one of those 'I had a thought' moments led to the bird brains putting the Batmobile on the roof of her apartment building.

"Oh, no," she said. "Oh, no, no, no."

He sent a look at her from over one shoulder.

"Oh, no, what?"

"Oh, no as in I don't wanna hear it."

A frown puckered his brow.

"Why not?"

"Because your 'I had a thought' moments never turn out well."

"I swear this one is a good one!" He flashed her a playful grin. "Trust me!"

Fenix studied him through slightly narrowed eyes. His cheerful mood wasn't especially alarming given he was coming off a week of recuperating under Alfred's watchful care.

Still, she couldn't ignore the small kernel of doubt popping around in her belly. After the series of pranks he and the other bird brains played, she was suspicious of any _thoughts_ they might have.

"Is it anything like the last thought you had, buzzard for brains?" She leaned forward slightly, breath steaming in the early morning air as she watched a black supply van drive down the street below at a snail's pace. "The one that ended with me getting six months of additional patrol shifts because you didn't think to tell Jason that pranking Batman would be a bad idea?"

"No," Nightwing issued the denial in an unnecessarily cheerful voice. "And _you_ got six months of patrols because you thought it was a good idea to arrest him."

She snorted as she reached for the thermos of coffee that Alfred thoughtfully packed for their vigil.

"I keep telling you I didn't have any choice but to arrest him." She poured the fragrant brew into the plastic cap and passed it to him. "He assaulted Sid Maroni in front of a lot of cops. I really didn't have any other choice available to me."

"You could have told them he was under some mind-controlling substance."

She sent him an easy smile while taking the cup back.

"... how do you think Alfred convinced them to release him without charging him?"

* * *

 **A** / **N** : Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	6. Situations

"Tell me something..." Dick began but Raya cut him off with an impatient sound.

"I'm not telling you a story, bird boy."

He heaved a disgruntled sigh.

"You're taking all the fun out of this, you know that?"

"What fun is there in being locked in a storage container and loaded on a cargo ship bound for who knows where?"

"See, that's what I wanted you to explain to me."

"What?"

"How we keep getting into these sorts of situations."

"I have no clue." Raya blew her hair out of her face. "Given how we were trained by Batman about how to avoid situations like this... we really should be better at not getting ourselves into them." His chuckles ricocheted through the container. "What?" She angled her head back to look at him. "Why're you laughing?"

"I told you that going to the movies was a bad idea."

"No, you said staying home with talk, dark and moody was a bad idea."

"Yeah..." he said slowly. "It might have been better to deal with him in his bad mood."

"Over getting kidnapped by Black Mask on the way to the theater?" She snorted a laugh. "I'll take Black Mask over dealing with Batman any day."

"We will still have to deal with him, yanno."

"Yes," she replied in a short clipped tone. "But it will be after he gets done pummeling Black Mask and his goons for having kidnapped us."

"Yeah..." Dick grimaced. "Still not looking forward to it. Not with the mood he's been in ever since you arrested him."

"Well, I suggest we figure out how to get ourselves out of this situation before he gets here then," she said as she shifted to her side. "It might help soften him up."

"You realize you're talking about tall, dark and always moody, right?"

"No, we're talking about Batman here, not you."

"Oh, ha ha." He rolled his eyes. "Everyone's a comedian in this city, I swear."

She bumped his foot with hers.

"Chat less and work more on getting yourself free."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "Gimme a minute, will ya?"

He tested the ropes used to tie his wrists together.

They were tight.

Perfectly tied knot.

No matter.

Batman taught him how to escape from every knot known to man.

Less than a minute later the bindings were off.

He reached for hers.

"Do you have a way of popping open the lid?"

"Don't I always, bird boy?"

A grin played about his mouth as he worked at her ties.

"Gonna use a hairpin like last time?"

"The classics never go out of style," Raya said as her bindings slid free. "They just improve with age. Like me."

"You soured with age." Her elbow caught him in the side. "Ouch!"

"What you get for being a smart ass."

"Just work on getting us outta here."

Before Raya could do anything the lid opened. They both tensed, anticipating Black Mask or one of his goons. They swallowed groans when they saw it wasn't him.

It was Batman.

"Uh, hi?" Dick flashed him a quick, playful grin. "Fancy meeting you here..."

"Get in the car," Batman growled. "And keep the chatter to a minimum."

"Hey, I'm chatty," Dick retorted as he climbed out of the storage container. He turned to help Raya out. "It's part of my charm."

"Be less charming." Batman swung around to stalk towards the exit. "And get in the car. _Now_."

* * *

 **A** / **N** : Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	7. Memories

"This is the best way to get those kids away from the Joker."

"It's also the best way to get us killed."

Jason Todd scoffed as he watched the green-haired figure prancing about below.

"Like your way doesn't have the same likelihood of getting us shot full of lead?" He sent a look at the figure perched beside him. "C'mon, Red, you know better than to think we're anything but boned here."

"Maybe," Red Robin agreed with a slight nod. "But the other way at least offers us a slim chance at survival."

 _Slim_ meaning that the goons walking around the docks with high-powered rifles wouldn't spot them and spray their brain matter all over the place.

"Hate to burst your bubble here, Red, but survival is seriously overrated."

"Says the man who has already died once at the Joker's hands."

"Exactly." He sent him an easy smile. "Makes me the one with the most knowledge about survival being grossly overrated."

He wasn't being intentionally blasé about his death. It sucked, hands down. However, if being dead taught him anything, it was to appreciate life. _You don't know how great breathing is until you can't do it anymore._

Double R didn't understand that, though. Not in the same sense that he did. The closest he came to death was having the Grim Reaper knock on his door. Red never crossed over to the other side.

He didn't know about the emptiness and loneliness that waited on the other side.

There was no Heaven, no Hell.

There was just... _nothing_. 

_A great big ole pile of it,_ he thought as the clown's high-pitched shrieks broke the silence.

"Hood..." Red pointed to where the Joker was waving a crowbar in the face of a boy in a homemade Robin costume. "If we're gonna do this, we gotta do it now."

He didn't have to add before the Joker stops having fun tormenting the kid verbally and starts beating him with that crowbar. Jason's blood boiled as he watched those mangled lips spread into a maniacal grin.

That crowbar was another thing he had a personal familiarity with. The bruises had faded, the broken bones healed, but the memory of that crowbar slamming down again and again while the Joker laughed, remained.

 _Not gonna let another kid get smacked around like I was,_ he decided, jaw clenching _. Not gonna let another kid die because he wants to push the old man into breaking his golden rule._

He'd see the clown dead, first.

He looked over at Red.

"On three?"

Red reached for the bo-staff clipped to his utility belt. "On three."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	8. Sticky Situation

It was the first question Alfred asked after he peeled himself off his bike.

"Master Timothy, why are you covered in—?"

"I lost a bet."

Alfred's eyebrows crept up a fraction of an inch, his only outward reaction to Tim's statement.

"How did—"

"Really don't want to get into it, Alfie," he muttered as he trudged off towards the changing area. "Really, _really_ , don't want to get into it."

"You're covered in honey," Alfred calmly stated. "Or am I mistaken and that is gold paint you are leaving in your wake?"

Tim kept walking, too embarrassed to admit he was, in fact, covered head to foot in ooey, gooey, sticky, and sweet honey.

It wasn't one of his finest moments. Something he was sure the little Demon would remind him about every chance he got. Not that Satan's Spawn would add how he _shoved_ him into those jars of honey.

Tim entered the changing area and started the slow process of peeling his body armor from the honey. If he had any skin left by the time he got everything off would be a miracle.

"I'm going to kill that little... _ow_!"

A sniff sounded, followed by Alfred saying, "Perhaps it would be wiser to focus on getting off our armor than in making idle threats."

Tim wisely did as Alfred suggested without uttering another word.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	9. Sticky Repercussions

"Master Jason," Alfred called. "Would you join me down here on the motorcycle platform for a moment?"

Jason knew that tone. It was Alfred's _you-my-dear-boy-have-seriously-crossed-the-line-and-I-am-going-to-make-you-sorry-for-it_ one. He heard that particular tone often enough when he was Robin to know he wasn't going to like whatever came next.

And considering how he was directly involved in Tim ending up covered in honey... well, he assumed that whatever came next would involve him, a mop, bucket, and hours of him cleaning up whatever mess Tim made when he returned to the cave. _I shouldn't have made that bet_ , he thought, grimacing. _Knew he was gonna lose. But I didn't wanna be stuck babysitting Satan's Spawn_.

"Master Jason?"

Knowing better than to either refuse or try to sneak out of the cave — a lesson he learned the hard way — he set his helmet, jacket and gloves on a workstation before heading down to where Alfred stood beside Tim's honey-covered Red-cycle. A glance at the metal floor revealed a series of honey-shaped footprints leading all the way to the changing area. He didn't even want to _think_ about how much of a mess was in the showers.

 _Wow_... was all he could think. _What did the little Demon do... toss him into a pool of the stuff_?

By the looks of it, the answer was _yes_. _Man, why couldn't Dickie be in Gotham tonight? It's easy to fob the Hellspawn off on him. Course,_ he reasoned as he prepared himself for the hours of cleaning ahead of him _. That's cause he actually_ likes _the little twerp..._

"Ah, well," Jason said as he turned to look into Alfred's stern face. "I can see Tim got back from his patrol unharmed."

"Yes, he did." Alfred gave that little sniff that said _young-man-you-are-in-serious-trouble-here-and-should-watch-the-wisecracks_. He'd heard that sniff enough times to know he better heed it or else he'd be cleaning the suits of armor in the hallway leading to the armory. "But he has left a mess as you can see."

Jason felt the sudden urge to squirm.

"The mop and bucket where they normally are?"

"They are, yes." Alfred turned then to walk towards the changing area. No doubt to make note of all the things needing de-honeyed. "I trust in future that you will not bet Master Timothy that you can eat more hot peppers than him to avoid going on patrol with Master Damian?"

Jason didn't even wonder how Alfred found out about his and Tim's bet. Alfred just tended to know about things before those things even happened.

"No, Alfred," he promised. "I won't bet Tim I can eat more hot peppers than him."

 _I'll make it something like pies_ , he thought as he went to retrieve the mop and bucket.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	10. No is No

"Did you get my note, Father?"

Bruce saw Damian hanging upside down, arms folded across his chest, and a permanent sneer etched on his lips that made him think of his mother, Talia.

Briefly, he wondered if Talia didn't have her team of scientists inject him with some of the Man-Bat serum. _It'd certainly explain why he likes to hang upside down so much_ , he mused as he slowly turned to face his youngest son.

"Of course, I got it, Damian." He kept his voice carefully, neutrally blank. "You taped it to my forehead while I was asleep."

 _So that I couldn't miss it_ , he mused as Damian made a soft _Tt_ sound. His youngest son had proven himself quite unlike his other siblings. Alfred routinely commented how it was because Damian inherited many of his more "lamentable personality traits."

Bruce figured if anyone knew about what traits Damian inherited from him, it was Alfred.

"Does it mean you are in agreement then?"

"It means I have seen your note," he told him. "And decided the answer is no."

"No?" Damian frowned. "Why is your answer no?"

"Because the request is unreasonable."

"I do not see what is so unreasonable about it."

"Damian, I am not going to send Tim away simply because you believe him unable to fulfill his role as Red Robin."

Damian heaved a soft sigh. "How do you expect us to be a cohesive team if you do not weed out the undesirables?"

"I expect us to be a cohesive team because everyone on this team has earned their place on it."

Damian looked like he had more to say on the matter but wisely chose not too. Bruce hid a smile and turned back to the Batcomputer.

There was hope that his youngest son would one day accept the others as part of his team.

As his family.

 _If he doesn't end up killing them, first._

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	11. Croc Hunting

"Can our goal be _not_ to die before Christmas?"

A soft chuckle came from the man checking around the corner. When he decided that things were safe, he glanced over his shoulder, a twinkle in his eyes, and a grin on his face.

"That seems like an awful lot to ask given how we're hunting Croc here."

"Yeah, and whose bright idea was it for us to hunt Croc?"

That grin stretched wider. "Aw, c'mon, Double R, you gotta admit this is fun."

"No, Wing, I don't have to admit this is fun." A rat scurried across the tip of his boot, further adding to his annoyance. "Hunting for Croc in the sewers is the last thing I'd consider _fun_."

"Could be helping Batman root Ivy from her hothouse."

"Killer plants are less dangerous than Killer Croc."

Nightwing snorted. "Not by much."

"You don't have to fear having your head removed from the rest of your body."

"No, just gotta worry about it being bitten off by one of her overgrown Flytraps."

Red Robin grimaced. "I keep telling you that Satan's Spawn tried to shove me into that Flytrap."

Nightwing shook his head with a sigh.

"I still don't believe he was actually trying to kill you."

"Really?" Red scowled. "And when he kicked me off that platform in the cave he was trying to what? Teach me how to dance _Gangnam Style_?"

"He was just feeling insecure."

"Insecure?" Red said the word slowly. "The Hell-spawn is never insecure."

If anything, he thought the current Robin more egotistical than anything else. Even the Titans thought the little twerp entirely too brash and bold.

"He doesn't know you."

"... and hasn't done a whole lot to try to get to know me."

"You gotta admit that he's been a lot better lately."

"Yeah, he's only pushed me into man-eating plants, sprayed some sort of bat-pheromone on me that got Man-Bat to follow me around for a week, and let me become a Claything just so he could use the Freeze gun that Batman confiscated from Freeze."

"You just gotta earn his respect is all."

Red harrumphed. "I'd rather stick my boot up his..."

"Sh! Listen!" Wing pointed to a corridor up ahead. "I think I heard nails scrapping on the rock."

Red moved up to stand beside Wing. Sure enough, there was the scrapping of nails from the corridor ahead. Red glanced at Wing.

"So, how do we plan on taking Croc down?"

That grin returned. Wider this time. "How do we always take him down?"

Red groaned. "Didn't I ask that we _not_ get killed before Christmas?"

"Aw, c'mon! We can beat Croc!"

"More like he's gonna beat on us," Red grumbled. "And here I was hoping to have one Christmas without something broken."

"What's Christmas without broken bones and contusions?"

"A normal one."

"Booooooring."

"So _you_ say."

Wing started to hum _The Twelve Days of Christmas_ as he made his way into the next corridor. Red sighed and followed him, imagining waking up in the hospital on Christmas with a concussion.

 _If_ he woke up.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all, and Happy Holidays!


	12. Yuletide Adventures

Something wasn't right about this. Something wasn't right about it at all. Some sort of trickery _must_ be involved. Why else had _she_ been selected for babysitting duties? _Why didn't Bruce have Dick babysit? Why did he have me do it?_

And where was Tim while this assignment was being handed out?

A frown knit her brow as she pondered the particulars of her assignment. Had she done something to earn this punishment? If so, she wanted to know what she did because she'd absolutely make sure to _never_ do it again.

Not if it meant she'd have to babysit Jason and Damian at the same time.

She loved them, she really did, but if she had to tell them that they couldn't shoot or stab or otherwise harm the carolers that came to the Manor one more time, she would clobber them with whatever was handy.

Raya finished sweeping up the bits of the oriental vase — a gift given to Bruce by Hiro Takahashi after he helped rescue the man from the League — that suffered the last row between the battling duo and returned the broom to the utility closet. She was brewing a cup of tea to calm her nerves when, "I am going to eviscerate you, Todd!" rolled through the Manor.

Raya heaved a sigh as she exited the kitchen. _I'm so gonna get you for abandoning me to this, bird boy_ , she thought as she made her way up the stairs. _You and Tim are so gonna get it when you turn up_.

A thunderous crash was followed by a virulent amount of cursing that'd give Alfred a heart attack if he heard it. Realizing the two were not gonna be happy until they wreaked something, she sprinted the rest of the way to the entertainment room.

"Damian! Jason! I have had enou—"

Her words gurgled to a gasp when she spied the Christmas tree, the one she and Dick painstakingly decorated just the night before, turned on its side. Glass balls, candy canes, and other ornaments were scattered all over the floor. The tree topper — a porcelain angel with dark curls and green eyes that Bruce commissioned years ago — had one of her gossamer wings torn off, a rip in the back of her velvet gown, and her face broken.

"Now, Kit…" She pinned him with a glare and had the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. He held his hands up. "Don't go and get mad at me for breaking the topper that Bruce had made for you."

"And why shouldn't I be mad at you?"

Jason shot a dirty look at the figure slouched in an armchair.

"Because it was the hell-spawn who turned the tree over."

" _Tt_." Damian slumped lower in his seat. "I was not the one who tripped over his own two feet and knocked me into the tree."

"I wouldn't have tripped if you hadn't used your crutch to trip me!"

"Excuses." A sneer twisted Damian's lips. "You're full of them, Todd."

"Bull—"

"Jason," she warned. "Mind your tongue."

"Fine." Jason tossed himself back against the pillows. Feathers exploded in a huge burst and rained down atop the rest of the mess in downy splendor. "Son of a bitch!"

"Looks like you're covered in what you are..."

"Shut up, Damian."

"What did you say to me, Kean?"

"I told you to be quiet." Raya met his glare with her own. "You have said and done quite enough for one evening."

" _Ffff_." He folded his arms across his chest and stuck out his lower lip. "I do not have to listen to you."

"You do until your father gets home."

That shut Damian up…

...for all of three seconds.

"Father will side with me and see to it that Todd gets returned where he belongs."

Jason barked a laugh that grated on Raya's already frazzled nerves.

"The old man won't send me to hell, kid," he sneered as he pulled feathers from his hair. "It would go against his precious moral code."

"Jason." She didn't growl like Bruce. Nope, she absolutely did not. "I am in no mood for..."

"It's the truth, Kit." The look he sent her dared her to deny it. "Bruce can't set aside his antiquated sense of morality long enough to clean up Gotham as it should be."

Raya counted to ten to keep from strangling him.

"It seems we agree, at least, on that, Todd. However, while he will not put you back in the ground that spawned you, he will send you back to the gutters. Where garbage like _you_ belong."

"And he should send _you_ back to Talia," Jason shot back. "The League is where a snot-nosed little brat like _you_ belongs."

Damian grumbled something Raya didn't even bother to try to understand. She tuned the squabbling pair out and surveyed the carnage they caused. _No_ , she decided as she turned on one heel and stalked from the room. _I am not going to get mad at them._

She wasn't going to get angry with them at all.

Getting angry would be a complete waste of energy.

No, what she planned to do was get even. Yup, she was going to teach the obnoxious pair a lesson about annoying their babysitter.

It took her six hours, ten rolls of ribbon, three phone calls, and two shots of Benadryl slipped into hot chocolate, but when Bruce returned that night it was to find Jason and Damian locked inside two seven-foot-tall square cages fashioned from welded steel.

He looked over at Raya who was reclining comfortably on the couch and flipping through movies on _Netflix_ , one dark brow slightly arched, and a smile playing about his lips.

"Long night, imp?"

"Nope," she replied as she selected her favorite Christmas movie — _Mickey's Christmas Carol_ — and hit play. "Just thought I'd wrap your Christmas presents and leave them beside the tree while you were out."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all, and Happy Holidays!

This is just a small note that if you recognize this piece it's because it used to be a single story posted a while back. I edited it down and decided to stick it in here. Hope you enjoy it!


	13. Christmas Squabbling

Bruce walked into the family room just as Jason snarled at Damian, "Aren't you supposed to be grounded for what you did to Timbo? And for cutting my grapnel line? And for breaking that tree topper? And..."

"And should you not be dead?" Damian shot back in just as heated a tone. "Or is that too difficult a task for you, Todd?" He harrumphed as he flopped into an armchair. "Much like everything else seems to be."

"Much like not being a creep is too difficult for you?"

"I cannot help that I excel at everything."

"What you excel at is being a jerk. That's why Kit chose to spend Christmas with Commissioner Gordon and Barbara."

" _Tt_ , as if I care where Kean spends Christmas."

"You don't care about anybody but you."

"I have no reason to care about anyone other than Father."

"Yes," Jason simpered. "We've all seen that."

 _I see trouble's brewing again between these two_ , he thought as Alfred materialized at his side with a steaming cup of coffee. He had no idea how long they had been arguing. A quick glance showed there was no additional damage to the living room beyond what they had done a few nights before. A glance at Alfred's face revealed a twinkle in his eye and a twitch to his lips. _So, they've been at it a while but he's been waiting for me to get up to handle it_.

A small smile curved his lips as he took the cup from the tray and drank deeply of the fragrant brew. He needed the caffeine to help clear away the lingering sleep fog. He needed all his faculties about him if he was going to try to deal with his most temperamental boys. He managed exactly two sips before the next round of their war started.

"And we've seen what a..."

"Damian."

Eyes the same shade as his own turned on him. "Yes, Father?"

Damian's tone was polite but there was a bite to it that said his young son didn't appreciate him getting involved in his dispute with Jason. He fixed him with a stern look.

"Be civil."

"Why?"

"Because it's Christmas."

A snort greeted that statement. "And when has Christmas ever been a time of peace in this family?" Jason sent a threatening glare at Damian who returned it with one of his own. "Especially with that hell-spawn running around and creating all sorts of trouble?"

"Todd..." Damian began but Bruce silenced him with a firm, "Enough." He then sent a look at Jason. "From the both of you."

The two hunched down in their seats with disgruntled grunts, arms folded across their chests, and with matching frowns on their faces. If Bruce wasn't hoping for a quiet Christmas morning he'd have pointed out how similar they were. He wisely decided to leave that bit of teasing to Dick. _He can get away with things like that_ , he thought as he moved to the couch.

A look about the family room revealed Dick and Tim were absent. He looked at Alfred. "Are Dick and Tim not awake yet?"

"Master Richard went to give his presents to Miss Barbara and Miss Raya," Alfred informed him. "He should be back shortly."

"And Tim?"

"Laying in a ditch somewhere," Damian grumbled. "Which is where he and Todd both belong."

"Fuc—"

"Master Jason!"

Jason slunk back down in his seat with a slightly abashed look. "Sorry, Alfie."

"It's quite all right," the butler said. "Tempers loosen tongues and make us say things we will come to regret."

One look at their faces indicated to Bruce that they fully meant what they said. Thankfully, Dick and Tim's arrival prevented the two from further engaging in World War 300. _For the moment, anyway,_ Bruce added as Dick started whistling what sounded suspiciously like _Jingle Bells._

"That better be the original version," he said. "And not the one that has become so popular."

"Don't like people singing Batman smells?" Dick flashed him a cheeky grin. "Or is it the part about the Joker got away that you don't like?"

"I'm not particularly fond of Robin laying an egg, either."

" _Tt_ ," came from Damian. "As if such a thing was possible."

"Not with how tight your as..."

"Jason!" Bruce thundered. "Enough!"

"He— oof!" He grunted as an oblong-shaped box wrapped in silver paper and with a big red bow whacked him in the back of the head. "Why you little..."

And Jason hurled a square box wrapped in green paper and tied with blue ribbon back at Damian. Any hope of having a quiet Christmas went out the door as other boxes in all shapes and sizes soon became weapons of Christmas destruction. Bruce heaved a sigh and indicated for Dick to give him a hand.

"Let's separate them before they break anything else."

Dick's lips twitched but he got distracted by Damian grabbing hold of a icicle-shaped ornament. Bruce turned and grabbed a long box wrapped in green paper out of Jason's hands before he could use it to hit Damian. There was no way he was going to allow them to break the doll nestled inside.

It cost him a small fortune, and an endless amount of pleading to convince old man Schumacher to make him another angel in time for Christmas. Luckily, the doll maker had an unfinished doll in his small workshop that would do. He set the box out of harm's reach before turning to grab Damian by the scruff of his neck.

"I said enough!"

"Want to put them in the cages Raya used the other night?"

"Yes." He glared at them both. "They can come out when they've learned the meaning of Christmas."

"So..." A grin spread across Dick's face. "Is this our Christmas present? A Silent Knight?"

Bruce ignored him and waltzed Damian over to his armchair. "Behave or I'll make you sit here and listen to Dick make bad pun after bad pun."

It ended up the quietest holiday the Manor had in years.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all, and Happy Holidays!

I saw something on Pinterest with Damian and Jason bickering and a prompt about different shaped presents and it inspired this. I meam, what's Christmas without family squabbles? ;)


	14. Happy New Year

Considering the disaster that was her last adventure in babysitting, Raya assumed Bruce would wisely decide to never have her watch Damian — or any member of the family — again. Yet there she was, on New Years Eve no less, watching Damian while Bruce did his playboy duty by attending a round of parties before taking to the streets after midnight to help the GCPD with their patrol.

As Raya watched _Arsenic and Old Lace_ — Cary Grant, not Tony Randall — she considered why she got selected again for babysitting duties. _This is_ _part of my punishment for having arrested Bruce,_ she decided as adoor slammed at the end of the hall.

It was the only logical conclusion she could make. Why else would she be babysitting instead of Tim, Jason, or Dick? _Not that I don't know why Bruce elected to not have Tim or Jason babysit._

The Manor barely withstood their _last_ brawl.

She harrumphed as she tucked her legs up beside her on the couch. This was payback, though. There was no doubt about it. Bruce Wayne wasn't the sort to hold grudges.

No, he simply got even.

Stomping in the hall snagged her attention. She cast her gaze to the door, expecting to see a fully dressed Robin staring at her, silently daring her to tell him to put his costume away since he was not going out on patrol that evening.

Or any evening until he learned he couldn't attack Tim or Jason when the mood struck him.

He surprised her when he came trudging into the entertainment room and tossed himself into the armchair by the fireplace. The glint in those electric eyes, the slight tick to his jaw, and the stormy expression upon his face reminded her of Bruce.

Even the way he slouched in the recliner with his arms folded across his chest as he frowned at the TV was all the Wayne patriarch. His soft harrumph, however, was entirely hers. _Guess he is picking up little things from us, after all_.

She hid a smirk and continued watching the movie.

"How can you watch a movie that is so _old_?"

"For the same reason you read books that are old. Because they're classics."

Damian stewed over her comment for the next thirty minutes in total, blissful silence. Rayareached for the remote and shut off the DVD once the credits started to roll. She set it on the arm of the couch before finally glancing over at the silent boy. Something about Damian's manner had the hair on the back of her neck trembling. _Something's up. I can feel it._

Damian didn't have his usual perma-sneer in place, she realized, alarm raising the hair on her nape. Raya had been around him long enough to know that him without that sneer was not a usual occurrence. _He's done something_. _He's got that guilty air about him._

The question was: _what_?

Alarms weren't going off so whatever it was might not need the fire department or her having to hire a team of cleaners to set the Manor to rights before Alfred got home.

"You've been remarkably well-behaved tonight." She kept her tone nonchalant. "What did you do?"

Damian gave her his dead-eyed predator look, the one that didn't impress her one bit. She merely met his stare with her own and waited for him to answer her question. He muttered a few things she was sure weren't very nice and hunched lower in his chair.

"I may have done something that caused the Batcomputer to lock us out of the Cave."

"That's it?" One eyebrow feathered up. "You locked us out of the Cave?"

As far as problems went, that wasn't a big one. They all managed to lock themselves out of the Cave. _Even Bruce has done it once or twice._

"And I might have gotten the Batmobile stuck in one of the tunnels."

"Okay..." She didn't even bother to ask how or why. She was sure she didn't want to know the answer. "Anything else?"

"Well..." He had the decency to at least look moderately shamefaced now. "I might have tried to get the Batmobile free by using the immobilizer missiles which caused the tunnel to collapse and trap the Batmobile beneath a mountain of rock and other debris."

"You did _what_?" She finally managed around the shock. "You... _drove_ the Batmobile into one of the tunnels, got it stuck, and then tried to _blast_ it free by using the immobilizer missiles?"

"I wasn't actually driving the Batmobile." He grimaced. "I was testing Father's new AI remote guidance program." He looked down at the hands folded neatly in his lap. "That's how I got us locked out of the Batcave."

"And got the Batmobile stuck in a tunnel?" He nodded. "You realize we're going to have to hire workers to get it unstuck and fix the damage, right?" Again he nodded. "And how exactly do you think I'm going to manage getting things repaired before your father gets home?"

"By offering the workers Father uses twice what he normally pays them?"

Yeah, there was no way _that_ was gonna happen. New Years Eve? She doubted any of the workers were sober enough for such a job. _I'm never going to arrest Bruce again_ , she decided with a sigh. Not if the punishment was babysitting any male member of the family. _I'll sooner date the Joker before I will ever again babysit any of these boys._

Realizing she needed to go and investigate the damage for herself, Raya got up and made her way from the room.

"Where are you going?"

"Down to the Cave to see how much damage you've caused." She looked at him from over her shoulder. "You can call your father while I'm gone."

"Why?"

"So _you_ can explain what _you_ did."

His glare followed her from the room.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all, and Happy New Year!


	15. Court is Now in Session

"So, what's our exit strategy?"

Tim should have known better than to ask. He just couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

"Our _what_?"

"Our exit strategy..." He looked at the figure slouched in the seat beside him. "Please, tell me that you have an exit strategy."

Jason slanted a look at him from the corner of his eye.

"Kinda making things up as I go here, Timbo."

"I was afraid you were gonna say that."

"Relax." Jason clapped a hand to his shoulder. "I'm sure someone has called the GCPD and told them that Two-Face decided today was a good day to take over traffic court."

Tim shot him a dirty look.

"We wouldn't even be here had you not blitzed through ten lights at a hundred miles per hour!"

"I was trying to reach the hospital before you bled out!"

"We're going to bleed out in this courtroom if we don't figure out how to get outta here before Two-Face starts handing out sentences."

"Like I said before." Jason folded his arms across his chest. "Gordon will send up the bat-shaped smoke signal."

Tim could only stare at him in disbelief. _Is he serious_? He couldn't rightly be sure. Jason's poker face tended to rival Bruce's.

"You realize _he_ doesn't come out during the day..."

There was no need to specify who _he_ was. Jason knew perfectly well he meant Batman. The only time Bruce had taken to the streets during daylight hours was during the months immediately following Jason's death.

Even then it was a rare occurrence for him to take to the streets during daylight hours. The Bat getting lured from his cave during the day tended to need someone like the Joker, Riddler or Scarecrow causing an obscene amount of mischief and mayhem.

 _Not that Two-Face presiding over traffic court isn't a bit of a big deal here_ , he thought as Two-Face banged his gavel and called everyone to order. It just wasn't a big enough deal that it'd warrant calling in Batman.

"No, _he_ may not come out during the day," Jason agreed in a low tone. "But we both know Kit or Barb will see the signal and call in the Kryptonianmuscle."

Hearing that brought him some measure of relief. A grin tugged at his lips.

"Kinda nice having a direct line to the Man of Steel."

"Even if the old man will get his bat boxers in a bunch over it."

"Todd!" Two-Face snapped. "You're next!"

Tim gulped. "Let's hope Superman gets here fast."

Jason pushed to his feet with a smirk. "If not, we'll have to shoot our way out."

"Oh, my god," Tim said with a groan. "We're gonna die. I just know it."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all, hope the New Year finds you well!


	16. Chick Flicks

"Go to hell, Jason."

"Been there, done that, Dickie." A tight smile graced Jason's lips. "The devil sent me back 'cause he was afraid I'd take over the place."

Dick knew it was a defense mechanism. A way of passing off what happened to him at the hands of the Joker. Of discounting the fact he died at the hands of the Clown Prince of Crime.

Was buried in the same cemetery Martha and Thomas Wayne had been.

 _And woke up inside that coffin after_ _Superboy_ _Prime tore a hole in reality_.

Dick couldn't begin to imagine the fear Jason felt when he found himself inside a wood box buried beneath mountains of fresh dirt. The trauma of that, of his last moments of life, and of discovering Bruce replaced him with another protegé caused Jason to crack psychologically.

Who wouldn't have broke after all that?

 _Even Bruce couldn't have walked away without that affecting him,_ he thought as he stared at Jason.

Just because his brother got handed the rawest deal out of all of them didn't mean he had to take his crap.

"I get why you're angry about what happened with the Joker," he said as gently as he could. "I get it, Jas. I do."

"Do you, Dickie?" Jason shook his head, sighed. "Because I don't think you do."

"Then tell me," Dick urged. "Talk to me, Jason. Let me help you."

A flash of vulnerability flickered across Jason's face. For a minute, just one, he thought Jason would finally open up and talk about what was bothering him.

For a minute, just one, he imagined Jason considered it.

Then the mask fell back into place. He turned to look out over the city.

"Thanks, but no thanks." He sent a smirk over his shoulder. "Not into those chick flick moments you are."

Dick rolled his eyes.

"I watched _Must Love Dogs_ one time with Raya!"

"And _Titanic_?"

"That was Barbara."

" _Ever After_?"

"Cass."

" _Legally Blonde_?"

Dick sighed. "Kory."

" _The Proposal_?"

Dick flashed him a lopsided grin. "That was Bruce."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	17. Barbie Girl

He was going to eviscerate Drake.

 _Slowly and with great pleasure_ , he decided, jaw clenching. He assumed Grayson and Todd were also involved in this little prank. Same as they'd been involved in the other pranks played on him. He'd get them in due course. They'd learn to never play such a prank on him again.

Drake, though, was the mastermind behind this particular prank. He was absolutely positive of it. Only _he'd_ dare to play such a joke on him.

 _That is why I am going to make him_ _pay in the most extreme way for it_.

His hand tightened on the end of the baseball bat in his left hand. It'd just as easily break Drake's bones as it did the stereo from which that infernal noise came from.

He didn't care what Father would have to say about his actions. He was more than justified in this decision. Justice was due him for this slight. Drake would think twice before again humiliating him in front of his best friend.

 _Barbie girl in a Barbie world_ _, indeed,_ hethought as the stereo sputtered and sparked. He would turn Drake into a Barbie doll before he finished with him. Damian stalked from the room, his eyes narrowed, and mind-set.

He didn't notice the shadowy figure watching from the end of the hall, a twinkle in his eye, and a remote control in his hand.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! I hope this finds you well!


	18. Birthday Celebrations

Birthdays were not something they celebrated in the Wayne household. Try as he might, Alfred couldn't gather the members of this family together to hold any type of birthday celebration. It was like they either forgot people we're supposed to celebrate birthdays or thought there was some crime in celebrating them.

 _And why might that be_? the butler wondered as he added the final touches to the cake he baked. _Certainly not because the head of this family tends to ignore his own birthday every year._ Of course, birthdays stopped having any special sort of meaning after the death of Master Bruce's parents.

Things changed after Master Richard came to live with them. They still did not celebrate birthdays as normal families would, but they always did something special to mark the occasion. That tradition continued until the year that Master Jason died. From then on, birthdays became taboo.

Well, this birthday was one he planned to celebrate. _No more treating birthdays as punishable offenses,_ he decided as he picked the plate with the cake on it up and carried it from the kitchen. _Tonight, we will honor the date one of our own came into this world and erase the date he died_.

Wayne Manor echoed with a burning silence. Alfred had grown accustomed to it many years ago. He understood the cold shadows that slithered across the polished floors and danced in every dark corner. The tangled web that shrouded this house ran deep. The walls hummed with the dark secrets hidden deep inside the Manor's brick and wooden infrastructure.

Many memories resided in this house, some good, and some bad. Alfred listened to the voices as he made his way to Master Bruce's private study. He passed the row of wooden bookcases lining the walls on the left side of the room, skirted an antique mahogany table where a vintage globe of the Earth rest, and approached the grand piano situated along the back of the room.

Alfred glanced at one particular bookcase as he tapped out a specific and rather difficult sequence of three notes on the black-and-white keys. A secret door, built into the bookcase, swung out and exposed the elevator hidden behind it. The concealed hinges of the invisible door never made a sound as they popped free. He personally made sure they got cleaned and oiled every few days to make sure that they did not squeak, or get stuck.

Secrecy was, after all, a matter of utmost importance in this household.

Alfred rode the elevator down, not sure what he would find once he reached the bottom. Master Bruce, as well as the rest of the family had burned the midnight oil steadily for the last few weeks in hopes of stopping the new menace threatening Gotham. _As if there isn't some villain or virus trying to destroy the city every other day, week or month_.

The elevator came to a stop with only the barest of sounds a few seconds later and Alfred stepped out into the vast caverns that made up the Batfamily's central base of operations. He quickly made his way to the main computer terminal.

He came to a stop soon as he walked up the steps. Nothing ever really managed to shock him. Over thirty years of service to his rather eccentric employer relieved him of that. However, the streamers, balloons, and people in festive birthday hats caught him completely by surprise. He walked over to set the cake on a table laden with presents before turning to those gathered by the railing.

"What is all this?"

"We knew how much you wanted to celebrate Jason's birthday." A grin played about Master Richard's mouth. "So, we decided to help you with the party."

"Batman party favors, Dickie?" came from the man leaning negligently against the railing with a small smirk screwing up one corner of his mouth. "Seriously?"

"Birthdays should be fun."

"And they should be celebrated." Master Bruce sent Alfred a meaningful look. "Life is about living, not simply existing."

Alfred didn't know what to say. Luckily, Miss Brown was there to fill the gap.

"Let's cut into that cake!" She smiled brightly at Alfred. "It looks scrumptious."

"Not before Jason makes a wish!" Came from Miss Gordon. "And blows out the candles!"

Groans came from Master Jason but he obliged everyone without complaining.

 _Much_.

For Alfred, it was the best birthday celebration ever.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

August 16 is traditionally Jason Todd's birthday so I thought I'd commemorate it with a little snippet about birthdays in the Batfamily. Hope y'all enjoy it!


	19. Dad-Mode

"Ouch!"

"Well," Raya said as she gently dabbed at his lip with a damp towel. "This wouldn't hurt so much if you'd sit still."

"You could kiss it and make it better."

"Kiss it?" One dark lifted. "Wouldn't that make it hurt worse?"

"I'm willing to suffer a little pain for a kiss."

"You would." She dunked the rag into a small bowl sitting on the table to her left. "Care to tell me what the two of you came to blows over this time?"

"You make it sound like we get into fights all the time."

"Well..."

"We don't fight all the time, Rae."

"No, just most of the time."

She had a point, Dick realized as she started wiping his chin. Not that he'd admit it. _There'd be no living with her if I did_.

"Yeah, well," he grumbled as Raya set aside the rag and reached for an ice pack she set against his jaw. "If he hadn't kept the truth about my connection to the Court to himself..."

"He'd have told you about your being chosen to become a Talon eventually."

"He had no intention of telling me the truth," he said it mildly. "He only did so because I forced his hand."

"He was trying to protect you, feather brain." Dick winced as she moved the ice pack to a different spot. "Right or wrong, he was just trying to keep you from being hurt."

"I'm not a child."

"Well." Her lips twitched. "You're acting like one by fidgeting as I'm trying to patch up your war wounds."

He scowled. Not that it did any good. Raya was immune to all but Bruce's dark scowls. _And even those she shrugs off unless he's really mad_.

"Why are you so unfazed about his keeping this from me?"

"Because I know why he kept it from you."

"Why?"

"To protect you." She smiled at his snort. "There's no switch that turns off _dad-mode._ "

"That's not his dad-mode."

"You think it's not?"

"No." Dick folded his arms across his chest. "It's just him being him."

"Feather brains." She heaved a sigh. "You're all feather brains."

"How are we feather brains?"

"Because you don't understand him at all."

"Oh, and you do?"

"Clearly, I do." Raya set the ice pack on top of the damp towel. "Because I see why he didn't tell you about the Court having selected you for their service."

"He should have told me, Rae." He lowered his eyes to his hands, balled in his lap. "No matter what he thought or felt about it, he still should have told me that I was selected as the next Talon."

"What good would knowing have done?"

He stared at her incredulously.

"You can ask that after everything I've gone through this week?"

"Yes, I can."

"Why?"

"Because I know what you _and_ he have gone through this week."

"He still should have told me the truth," he insisted. "He shouldn't have kept what the Court planned for me to himself."

"And did you stop to think that the reason that he didn't tell you is because he doesn't want to watch you bleed?"

"What?" He frowned his confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You know him, Dick. You've fought with him. You've fought beside him. You know he always gives everything he has."

"Yeah, and?"

"And you know that no matter what... he bleeds first."

"How's he bleeding here?"

"He's a father," she said simply. "He's bleeding for his son."

Dick pondered that as she gathered all the supplies together. _She's right_ , he realized. _Like she typically is._

"I hate it when you use logic against me," he grumbled as Alfred quietly entered the room to take the supplies she gathered up and handed to him. "You know that, right?"

"Yup." She framed his face with her hands, placed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "But it's the only weapon that works on hard-headed bats and birds."

"Funny," he grumbled as he reached up to feel his jaw. "Ow!"

"If you didn't touch it..."

Dick just rolled his eyes.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

This piece is inspired by events that occur in Batman (2011-2016) #7. It's the final story collected in Vol. 1 of the Court of Owls. This is bridging those events before going into the Night of Owls arc. Further inspiration came from DC Comics Rebirth Batman #800/#35.

Please, if you like this collection, follow/favorite it!


	20. Mistakes

Fenix knew it was a mistake when he stopped and said, "We're here."

"Uh, feather brains?" She stared at the abandoned factory with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. "Can I ask _why_ we're here?"

"You'll see."

"Yeah," she huffed as she planted her fists on her hips. "Not exactly building up my confidence here with that."

"Trust me." Nightwing flashed her a lopsided grin. "You'll love it."

She had serious doubts about that but followed him inside, anyway. Way she saw it? If she didn't love whatever he drug her here for?

She'd get Robin to pour glue in his boots.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

This is just a short piece inspired by a prompt on Facebook that said: _She knew it was a mistake when — stopped and said "—"._


	21. Care to explain why?

"Jason, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Kit." Jason stuck his gun in its holster before turning towards her. "What's on your mind?"

Not that he didn't have a pretty good idea about what — _more like who_ , he amended quickly — that something was.

"Well, for starters." She indicated the body facedown in the swimming pool. "Care to tell me why you killed him?"

He could tell her it was none of her business. That she didn't need to know why he did it. This was Raya Kean, though. She wouldn't accept either of those answers any better than the old man. _Two peas in a pod_ , he thought as he deliberated over how best to answer her. He finally settled on short and simple.

"I didn't want him alive."

It was the truth. He _didn't_ want Reno alive. _And now he's not_. The only part he left out was why he wanted him dead. _No way am I telling her about Penguin hiring Reno and some other goons to rough her and_ _Batgirl_ _up in retaliation for Gordon's shutting down his underground fight club._

He planned on going to confront that pudgy bird himself. _Make it clear what'll happen if he sends any more men after either one of 'em._

Not that she'd agree with his method of handling Penguin. If there was one thing he could count on Kit being, it was being dedicated to following the old man's golden rule.

She managed to surprise him, though, when she said, "I see." She folded her arms across her chest and gave a slow nod. Not in approval. No way. Jason knew better than to think that. However, he didn't expect her to say, "Well, I guess that's fair."

"That's fair?" One brow winged up. "How?"

"I expected your answer would be more involved and convoluted than that really."

"Wanting him dead isn't convoluted and involved enough for you?"

"Nope." Raya turned on one booted heel. "It's actually a pretty simple answer." She glanced at him from over her shoulder, smirked. "Well, for you, anyway."

Then she left him.

Presumably to place a call to the police about the dead body in Gotham High's swimming pool.

If there was one other thing he could count on Kit always being, it was discreet.

 _Not that I deserve it,_ he thought as he made his way from the pool area.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

This was inspired by a prompt I found on Pinterest around a conversation about why someone didn't want somebody alive. Jason Todd came to mind and here we are heh


	22. Batsgiving

Thanksgiving, much like other holidays, wasn't something celebrated with any type of regularity in the Wayne household following the deaths of Bruce's parents. That changed after Master Dick came to live with them. Master Bruce decided that they needed to celebrate Thanksgiving, Christmas, Fourth of July, and even Halloween.

" _For the good of the boy_ ," he had said. " _He needs a stable home environment and a life as close to normal as we can make it._ "

Alfred had known it was more than that, though. Master Dick reminded Bruce there was more to life than crime fighting and Batman. The tradition continued after Master Dick was grown and left to pursue his own life. Master Jason might not have liked the parties and celebrations but he did enjoy the time with Master Bruce.

Then the Joker took the boy from them and the celebrations stopped. Now getting the members of the family in the same place, and at the same time, typically required some sort of major catastrophe or event to occur.

Even then it wasn't a guarantee that everyone would show up to help.

Alfred decided that they'd celebrate Thanksgiving as a family that year come hell or high water. There were many things they could be thankful for... being alive and reasonably healthy at the top of the list. He worked in secret, creating a plot that guaranteed all members of the family would turn up to help.

He enlisted Commissioner Gordon, Miss Kyle, Mr. Fox, Miss Prince, Mr. Queen, Mr. West, Mr. Allen, Mr. Harper, and the younger Mr. Kent to help him with carrying out this bit of subterfuge. The four brought everything he needed for a Thanksgiving feast to Miss Kyle's apartment.

As Masters Bruce and Damian slept, Alfred cooked. Once the plan was in motion, the foursome would sneak everything into Wayne Manor and help him with getting the table set.

As he prepared dinner, Mr. Fox created a series of confetti filled bombs that resembled the kind the Joker loved using. These Miss Prince and Mr. Queen placed around the city as Commissioner Gordon staged a fake breakout from Arkham.

Alfred helped get everything to Wayne Manor before being _kidnapped._ A ransom note from someone claiming to want vengeance for something Batman did to them many years ago got delivered to the GCPD with clear instructions of what would happen at midnight if Batman failed to find all the bombs in time.

All members of the family showed up to help. Even Master Jason.

Everything was going according to plan.

Until the winter storm that forecasters threatened all week was on the horizon swept through the city and covered everything in a blanket of white. People trying to leave Gotham either ended up stranded on bridges or in the tunnels that ran below Gotham Harbor. Batman and the rest pulled together to get those trapped to safety. Mr. Fox even managed to get the power back on for those areas of the city that lost it.

Businesses that opened to attract Black Friday shoppers found themselves turned into temporary storm shelters. Alfred, along with Miss Kyle and Miss Prince, served coffee and tea to those brought to Wayne Manor to wait out the storm. At the end of the day, the Thanksgiving dinner he hoped they'd have had not become a reality. It didn't matter, though. Nobody died that night because enough help was available to handle the crisis.

 _And that_ , Alfred decided as he handed a cup of coffee to Commissioner Gordon, _is something truly worth being thankful for_.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, all, and Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate!

Please, if you like this piece, follow/favorite it!


	23. Heart of Ice

Someone had "It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas" playing. It was, Victor Fries recalled, one of Nora's favorite holiday tunes. Many times he'd find her humming it as she hung decorations or wrapped presents. That was before doctors told them there'd be no more Christmases, Thanksgivings or New Years.

No more birthdays or anniversaries.

No more anything's.

He stopped celebrating holidays after he placed Nora in cryogenic stasis. There was no reason to celebrate. Not without her beside him. The number of holidays missed didn't matter. All that mattered was finding a way to restore her to health. His latest attempt at developing a cure, however, met with failure.

And resulted in his being incarcerated in this specially designed cell deep within Arkham Asylum.

Frustration mingled with the guilt chilling in his veins. Anger pulsed beneath his skin, mixing with the blame and recriminations. Some, he aimed at himself. Much of it, though, he aimed at Ferris Boyle, and the man standing outside his cell.

"Have you ever watched something beautiful, so full of life, just collapse, and slowly rot from within?"

"Victor..."

"I promised her I would find a cure." The weight of his failure bowed his shoulders. Hardened his already cold heart. "I told her I would save her. I failed to do that. My beautiful Nora. Forever frozen in time." He lifted his head to gaze at the man in the dark cape and cowl. "Imagine it, Batman. To never again feel the warmth of the sun against your face or the touch of your husband's hand on your cheek."

"You can still save her." The quiet conviction in Batman's voice almost made him smile. _Almost_. "I promised you I would help you find a cure for the disease killing your wife. I still mean that."

"No." He shook his head. "My work, my equipment, it's all gone. Ferris Boyle took it from us after he revealed his true purpose for funding my research."

What Ferris didn't take got destroyed in his fight with Batman. The only thing that survived their battle was the cryotube his beloved Nora slept in. _I don't even know where they took her_ , he thought, fists curling atop his knees. Batman restored her cryogenic status as officers arrived. He got taken into custody and transported to Arkham while they took Nora somewhere else.

"He didn't take away your knowledge or your memories." Batman folded his arms across his chest. "You're a brilliant man, Victor. You can start again. You can still find a cure for Nora."

 _He isn't wrong_ , he realized, a spark of hope igniting in his breast. He could rewrite his notes from memory, rebuild his equipment with Batman's help, and finally fulfill the promise he made to his Nora before freezing her with his freeze gun. Victor wasn't a fool, though. The Dark Knight had an ulterior motive for offering to help him with his research. Curing Nora of her disease meant curing others who suffered the same fate she did, as well.

It was a small price to pay for having his wife healthy and happy beside him once more.

"I will accept your offer, Batman." He lifted his head to look at him. "For Nora. Because nothing means more to me than finding a cure for the disease robbing us of our time together. Make no mistake, though." He pushed to his feet and padded to the door. "This does not make us friends."

"I didn't expect it would."

Batman left him alone with his thoughts.

Not that they were far from his beloved wife.

"I will save you, Nora," he whispered as he turned to walk to the small desk they allowed him. He needed to plan. To make lists. To sketch the items he needed to resume his research. "I promise."

And this time he wouldn't stop.

Not until he found the cure. 

* * *

**A/N:** Hello, all! I hope this finds you well!


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